Roll With It
by firstForward
Summary: The spirit of the Ring is lying in wait for his next opportunity to obtain the Puzzle. When one cruel mistake ousts the secret of his return, Bakura targets Joey to erase his memories. But Joey's not willing to give up his friend without a fight.


Roll With It

There was a knocking at the door.

Crunching on a mouthful of toast, and sucking his fingers clean of jam, Ryou was partly distracted by the song on the radio and so wasn't thinking too much on who could possibly be knocking on his door so early in the morning. He turned the lock and pulled back the handle with his clean hand, quickly swallowing the rest of the toast to offer a greeting for the person knocking. And he nearly coughed his breakfast back up once he saw who was standing on his doorstep.

It was a man, clearly homeless, judging by the dirtied and old clothing draping over his form. Haunted eyes and stringy, unclean hair promoted the quick conclusion Ryou had made. But what had made him sick was not the dirtiness nor the manner in which the man was dressed, but rather the fact that one entire half of his face had skin practically scraped off. This lack of skin continued down his neck, and under his shirt, darkening the clothing as he bled through the thin fabric. Ryou watched in shock, numb, as the man opened his mouth to speak and revealed that half of his jaw had been punched out. An entire row of upper and lower teeth were missing, and his tongue was so swollen and bloodied that Ryou did not know how his visitor managed to form words.

"Ish was y-you," gasped the man.

Ryou's stomach flipped over, and something stirred in the back of his mind. Something darkly intelligent, moving like velvet through his system. Seeing through his eyes. Appraising the situation. Considering options.

"Yoush d-did itsh," the man was reaching for him, and Ryou noticed in a detached sort of way that his fingers were bent abnormally. His skin was blackened under his nails. Something heavy had hit those hands. Something hard had banged those teeth out. The man reached forward, like some zombie out of one of Ryou's horror flicks, and he stared with two sets of eyes and with two minds tried to figure out what to do.

"Hey, Bakura! I guess you saw me coming up, huh?" Called a cheerful voice.

The man started before Ryou did. A second later he was not there at all, leaving Ryou standing alone in the doorway.

There coming down towards his apartment door was Joey, with a lopsided grin offered in place of an explanation. Ryou opened his mouth, moved to respond, somehow, somehow—

But Joey was already pushing past him into the apartment, kicking off his shoes and calling back at him, "Sorry for intruding," in a sing-song kind of tone. Ryou blinked, and spun on the spot, finding his train of thoughts again. Joey seemed to be in the process of stepping into the living room, but then he glanced back at Ryou with a frown. "Wasn't there a man standing there a second ago?"

Ryou hesitated, so Bakura answered for him. "No."

"Huh..." Joey muttered, scratching his head absently. Then he wandered out of sight. Ryou looked back outside, and, seeing nothing, closed the door shut with a shuddering breath. The lock clicked.

"Joey, uh, not that I'm not happy to see you," Ryou found him digging through his fridge, pulling out freshly cut fruit and chewing on the last of the toast that he'd left on the counter. Joey looked up with the toast partly hanging out of his mouth. "But why are you here, exactly?"

Swallowing thickly, Joey closed the fridge door and returned, "I'm going to see my sister in the hospital, and I didn't have time to make myself anything. So I'm taking your food instead. You don't mind, right?"

Ryou settled himself into a chair, a light smile dancing across his face. "No, of course not." Joey nodded and stuffed some fruit in his mouth. Utensils were being foregone, apparently. "You have a train to catch, right? Want me to walk you there?"

A shake of a head. Joey's mouth was too full to speak properly, but he mumbled out around a bit of banana, "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you've got better stuff to do anyway."

"School work to catch up on," Ryou agreed with a sigh, feeling a little bothered over the prospect of going through his books. His chin dropped into his hands. "Duelist Kingdom set me back a few reports."

Joey shrugged sheepishly, like he too was dealing with the same problem but was choosing to ignore it. "Yeah. So no problem. I'll be gone in another minute, anyway. Just had to pause long enough to get some food in me. And you have good cooking. So, I figured..."

"Joey," Ryou rebuked with a frown, "you're eating toast and fruit. That's hardly cooking."

"_Some_ days I come over here and you've got like platters of rice and eggs and soup and stuff!" Joey returned pointedly. Ryou laughed a little. In the back of his mind, the dark presence was shifting into some corner of his consciousness again, content for the moment that there was nothing to disturb them. Ryou fought a shiver at the feeling of shifting and just grinned at his friend.

Checking the clock hanging on the wall, Joey quickly swallowed some more food, and grabbed a can of juice from the fridge. "Sorry man. I'll see you later!"

"I hope your sister is doing well!" Ryou called back, as Joey rushed around the corner and out of the house. He listened to the door slam shut before letting out a long puff of air.

It took him a few minutes to work up the courage to go over to the door and lock it shut again, and even then his ears were strained for any sound of the man who had been at the door earlier.

But there was nothing but silence.

{Don't be paranoid, Landlord.} Mocked a voice in his mind.

"Shut up," Ryou said aloud automatically. He was _not_ paranoid.

xXx

It took him about an hour on the train to arrive at his destination, but Joey happily filled up the time with comic books and gaming magazines, so much so that he nearly missed his stop. "Ah!" He cried out, dashing down the aisle for the door while cursing under his breath. That would be just like me, to go to all the trouble of taking a trip out to see my sister and then end up missing my stop, Joey thought tiredly. I'm not going to make that mistake.

His feet had just touched the concrete of the station platform as the door smacked shut behind him, and the train started off once more. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Joey shifted his backpack onto his shoulder, ignoring the sight of his bent books and magazines which had been stuffed hastily into the bag. He left the platform, heading for the streets.

A grumbling stomach informed Joey that he hadn't put enough of his friend's food down his throat, but Joey put that out of his mind as he finally reached the hospital after many minutes of walking. He regretted downing the juice so quickly on the train, as now he had nothing to fill his stomach with. Trying to ignore the sound, he entered the building and headed for his sister's room.

The hospital always bothered him, whether because his sister was in it, well, that was probably part of the reason. It also might have been due to the atmosphere: stark white walls, pristine uniforms and linoleum flooring. No personality at all. Dull. Lifeless. He passed by dozens of sick and injured in the halls, trying to think positively for his sister. She wasn't like the rest. She was going to get better. He'd made sure of it.

Tapping gently on the door, Joey heard her call out for him to come in, which he did with much enthusiasm and a shout. "Hey!"

The nurse at the bedside gave him a stern look, but Serenity in her bed chirped back happily, "Joey!"

He paced in, stopping at her bed and dropping into an uncomfortable chair after a moment of pause. "How are you? The hospital set the date for your operation, right?" Joey asked. His backpack was dropped onto the floor without much care.

Serenity sat up further in her bed as the nurse set about changing the pillows. "Yes. Four days from now."

"Wow, that's coming up quick then..." Joey remarked.

"You'll be there, right? When it happens?" Serenity said with sudden nervousness.

He laughed in the face of her concern. "When have I ever let you down, huh?"

They grinned at each other, and chattered absently as the nurse went about giving Serenity new bedding, before saying, "All right, miss. I'm going to go check on our new patient now. Enjoy your time with your brother," but she shot a look at Joey like she was warning him not to break anything while he was there. He gave her his best innocent look.

"New patient?" Joey wondered at his sister, curious about what she and the nurse chatted about when he wasn't around.

"Some poor man was hit by a car recently," Serenity said sadly, "they don't know his name because he's still unconscious, and they only got a little information at the scene of the accident. They think he might be homeless."

"Hmm," said Joey, not really interested in this information, "now I bet you feel lucky that you've got someone like me who's there for you," he teased.

A bright smile was issued from his sister. "I've always been grateful for you, big brother." Joey nodded, his stomach still distracting him with its grumbles. Serenity turned her head, staring at the door that the nurse had just exited through, "Still...I feel sorry for him. I heard he was babbling before he got hit. Something about a white haired demon planting images in his head." She shivered at the eeriness of the thought, like it would have made a good scary story around a campfire late at night.

Joey started frowning.

He was remembering the distinctly shocked look on his friend's face as he'd come up to his apartment door. The stare he'd given into the empty air, like he'd just seen something that had recently disappeared.

A man, standing at the door. Baggy clothing. Hunched form.

_"Wasn't there a man standing there a second ago?"_

_"No."_

Haltingly, Joey mumbled, "A white haired demon...huh..."

He got to his feet, giving his sister a quick apology while he went out into the hall, searching for the nurse who had just left the room. He spotted her, or someone he thought might have been her, stepping into a room several metres away. Joey picked up his pace. There was something about gut instinct that Yuugi had told him once. That a duelist had to rely on it, sometimes. Joey was the type to rely on it too much, practically all the time, really. Now was no different. Something was upsetting him, but it was too silly to put a name to it. So instead he tried to remember why he was feeling so rotten. Something about being hungry.

Stopping in the doorway, looking inside the room at the beeping machines and the tubes and the patient on the bed, Joey felt that the feeling in his abdomen was probably more than just hunger. The man in the bed, being checked on by the nurse who had not noticed Joey's presence, seemed more than a little familiar for his liking. He was the right size, for one thing. The right complexion. The same grubby hair.

"Hey, uh—" Joey burst out, causing the nurse to jerk her head around in some surprise, "what was the guy blabbing about before he was hit by the car?"

The nurse didn't see anything odd in his question. Likely there'd been some gossip in the hospital, and his story was of some vague interest, or else she wouldn't have replied. "A demon in a human body," she said with an exasperated roll of her eyes, "apparently came at him for having tried to pickpocket him. Gold eye on his forehead. Some other nonsense about darkness and games. Apparently he'd gone crazy a few weeks before this accident. People aren't surprised he got himself hurt."

She tried to call out to him as Joey spun around and bolted back down the hall, giving a shout to his sister that he'd return, before running down the hall, completely forgetting his bag. Juice and bile sloshed in his stomach, barely absorbed by the toast and fruit. Joey kept swallowing till his mouth was dry.

He didn't stop running till he'd hit the train station.

xXx

Ryou was trying to ignore the scratching at the door. Actually, he'd been trying to ignore it for more than a few hours now. He was very sure that it wasn't a cat or some other small animal. The scratching was too dull for it to be something like that. And maybe it was just paranoia, but all his mind could think of was the cracked, short nails of the homeless man who'd visited earlier.

Scratch, scratch.

He was sitting on his couch, debating on grabbing the phone in front of him to dial for Yuugi —not for Yuugi really, but for the other one— or Tristan, even. Tristan would be good. He was tall and threatening looking, when he wanted to be. Maybe he could come up with a good excuse. Something about studying together. Or finishing their homework together. Or, or, or...

The dark soul in the back of his mind was stretching out languidly like a cat, completely unconcerned with his worry. There was no immediate threat to them, just some odd sound that seemed to be irritating his host, and really that meant nothing to him. But he couldn't resist prodding at his landlord's mind. {You _could_ ask for my help, you know.} Taunting. Smirking. Ryou could just picture it.

"And let you hurt whatever's outside?" Ryou snapped back, knotting his fingers in his hair. The phone looked incredibly tempting. "Not a chance."

A scoff. {But you're thinking of calling _him_ to harm the thing outside.}

"That's different!" Ryou protested loudly, ineffectively trying to drown out the dull scratching. There was a snickering in his head. "The Other Yuugi works for _justice_. You'd hurt others just because you could. And for no other reason than that."

Anger flushed through his head. {I am true justice, not him!} He shouted in Ryou's mind, who was busy trying to pull out his fingers from the tangles he'd made in his hair. He winced at the loudness in his mind. {And the reason has always been for _you_, dear host.} Said the voice in a hiss.

Ryou had been so intent on untangling his hair and listening to the voice in his mind that he'd failed to notice the slow and steady breathing of the man in the room.

In the back of his mind, Bakura stilled just as much as Ryou.

"Yoursh b-bad," the man stammered out.

Slowing getting to his feet, Ryou inched around the coffee table in front of him to give himself space to move if the situation took a turn for the worse. The man stood in front of the short hall that contained the apartment door, so Ryou was rather cornered, unless he could somehow run around him and make a break for the door. The urge to get out of there was pounding through his head, and he tensed in preparation for following through with it. "Imma hurt—"

Bakura kicked aside his host's consciousness without another thought, thinking with some irritation that although it was unlikely that the intruder could do any lasting damage, knowing his host he'd end up more hurt than necessary. The teen had little knowledge of how to defend himself.

"You'll get out of here if you know what's good for you," intoned the spirit of the Ring. He wasn't usually so generous with warnings, but there was a vague niggling thought in the back of his mind from Ryou who was worried about the fight wrecking his apartment. That thought was less prominent than Ryou's relief that Bakura would solve the problem of the man for him, however, and so the Ring spirit decided he wouldn't concern himself over the apartment should the man choose to stay.

Noticing the difference in appearance —however slight— or perhaps the difference in personality, the man hesitated for one brief instant. Bakura cracked his knuckles in the silence. That seemed to egg the man on, for abruptly he made up his mind and stumbled on crippled feet forward.

Changing stance, Bakura dropped one shoulder lower than the other, and launched himself forward. He hit the man square in the chest, and they dropped to the floor. Immediately rocking back on his heels, Bakura moved himself into a kneeling position and switched tactics to drive one elbow down hard just above the man's collar bone.

He wheezed and coughed out blood, unusable fingers fumbling against Bakura's sleeve to attempt to pull it away. But Bakura had become sharply aware of what exactly he was dealing with, and didn't bother to move his elbow up from where he'd driven it into the man's neck. This is stupidity, Bakura thought idly as the man tried unsuccessfully to suck air into his lungs, tried to pull himself up when his head was pinned to the ground. Broken bones in his legs prevented him from twisting his body, and bent fingers prevented any grabbing.

In a hospital a good distance away, a monitor in a patient's room began to let out loud beeping as oxygen levels dipped too low. New bruises formed under a hospital gown, red and not yet too noticeable. The man in the room began to choke.

"Ah," said Bakura, curiously, "I thought I'd driven you too mad to be able to do little more than eat or sleep. It looked like you'd gotten yourself killed, but that's not the case, is it? So you're not a ghost —you took on spirit form to get revenge, I see. You'd better hope you still have a strong connection to your body...else you won't be able to go back, and you'll be declared comatose as your spirit tries desperately to return to its physical form."

Muscles shuddering, blood still soaking his clothing, the man's eyes dilated and his writhing grew jerky.

"You have a choice, of course," Bakura continued conversationally, "to return to your body and save it from further damage by me. Or to stay here, and become a ghost."

There was a slam as the front door burst open, and Joey stumbled in gasping. Distracted, Bakura released his hold for a moment, and the man quickly took advantage and vanished. Back to his body, probably, gone to make sure he could actually return to it. Joey's eyes widened at the disappearing act.

Then their eyes locked.

Completely setting aside his confusion on the disappearing man who clearly should have been in the hospital, Joey zeroed in on Bakura. "I knew it," Joey sputtered, "I knew you were back, you put someone in the hospital, you...and he was right here, but you...you're a rotten, body stealing—"

Bakura stood, cursing silently in his head. The scratching earlier could only have been the homeless man picking the lock, which had granted Joey's entry into the home. That man had cost Bakura the secret of his return. There could only be one solution to that.

Sensing the change in situation, Ryou struggled in the back of Bakura's mind hard enough for him to slip in concentration, and for a moment his vision was filled with fuzzy spots as Ryou got a glimpse of what was going on. Instant alarm rocketed through his mind. Bakura would need to deal with this quickly, before Ryou worked up enough strength of will to wrestle control from him, even partially. He started forward. "If you think you're going to get out of here with that information," Bakura narrowed his eyes sufficiently enough to warn Joey that even without an obvious weapon in his hand, Bakura wasn't someone he wanted to be messing with, "think again."

"Well if _you_ think I'm just going to leave my friend like this, you should think again," Joey growled back.

{Spirit, don't you dare hurt him!} Ryou cried out angrily.

Bakura ignored the both of them. The Millennium Ring shimmered into view hanging from around his neck, warping space around it. Joey cursed aloud and, panting, closed the distance between them with a few quick steps. His hand snapped out to wrench the Ring off of Bakura.

Sidestepping the grab, amused at the obvious exhaustion of the blond, Bakura quickly gripped Joey's outstretched arm and twisted it hard around his back, spinning the man around. Joey jerked his head back, crashing their skulls together, and Bakura cursed again, aloud this time. He let go and stepped back, and by then Joey had fully settled into using the skills he'd picked up as a gang member. Dropping into a crouch, Joey spun on the balls of his feet and caught Bakura's knees in a sweeping kick. The spirit went down.

"Let go of him," Joey snarled, gasping.

"Not a chance!" Bakura snapped back, and the gold Eye burned on his forehead.

Joey dove to the side just in time to avoid the snaking arms of darkness curling at his feet, tightening around empty air where he'd just been moments before. Bakura adjusted his aim and with a commanding word used his hand like it was a whip, and as he pointed the darkness twisted and fell down over Joey.

Joey could see that the tendrils of darkness were attached at Bakura's fingertips, and as the spirit of the Ring flicked his wrist the individual ropes of black flicked with his movements, cracking on Joey's back painfully, and snaking around his waist and arms. The blond immediately got to his feet —thankfully his legs were free— and pulled at his constraints, hefting Bakura to a standing position through force. The ropes went taunt between them. "You can't face me without your magic, can you?" Joey taunted.

Shrugging off the jab, Bakura returned, "Fist fights just aren't my style. And you aren't worth the blood I'd end up spilling all over the floor," he sneered.

Deciding to give up trying to pull Bakura off balance, Joey made the darkness between them go slack as he ran forward and tackled Bakura over the coffee table. The Ring spirit blinked surprise out of his eyes and flipped them over with a quick intake of breath, working the darkness back into his fingers to take up the slack. Then, as Joey kicked upward, sending his diaphragm into his spine, Bakura pulled stray threads of darkness loose from the bindings and tied them down into the floor with a twist of his hand.

Joey leaned back, completely chained down. The cold darkness wrapping around his form didn't look like it'd dissipate anytime soon.

Sliding backwards, Bakura coughed silently until his diaphragm settled back properly under his lungs, and sucked in air greedily. Joey looked indifferent in his black chains on the floor. "There, you see where your loyalty has gotten you?" Bakura mocked him irritably. His abdomen felt sore. Inside his shared head, the second mind desperately pounded on the wood of his mind room door. The pounding echoed in Bakura's ears.

"Bet you don't feel too good right now, with the real owner of that body fighting his way out," Joey commented while sticking his tongue out childishly, having noticed Bakura's jaw moving to try to ease the aching in his ears.

Slamming his fist down into the floor beside Joey's head, Bakura felt mildly better when the blond flinched, twisting his head to the side even as the knuckles landed beside him. Joey's lips curled into a scowl. "I'm going to use the Ring to erase your memories," Bakura said smoothly, "but I suppose I could have some fun with you first. It won't be for a while yet that I'll reveal myself once more...and it's not often that I get the chance to enjoy being myself," he laughed darkly.

Thinking of every recent memory he had of Bakura, Joey seethed internally as he tried to figure out how much of it had been his friend and how much of it had been the Ring spirit. "Yuugi'll make you eat dirt when you do come back, asking for trouble," Joey said bitingly.

Bakura leaned in close, making the blond squirm. He trailed his fingers up Joey's neck, leaving an icy prickling in their wake. "Yuugi is overconfident from his victory over Duelist Kingdom," Bakura leered, finding the quickening pulse in Joey's tense neck. He pressed his thumb to the vein, and Joey grit his teeth. "He'll fall more easily than you think. Because Yuugi has a weakness I don't," Bakura drawled, enjoying the furious gaze of the man trapped beneath him. Joey didn't say a word, too caught up in trying to figure a way out of the situation. "Don't you want to know what that weakness is?"

A short forced laugh left Joey's throat. "Your words mean nothin' to me."

"It's you, Joey," continued Bakura, sliding his fingers up to Joey's jaw line, and leaning even lower to murmur in his ear. Joey's breaths were cut short as he tried to appear unaffected by the cold touches. "It's you and all of Yuugi's other friends. Tristan. Téa."

"Don't you bring them into this," Joey hissed, back arching as he gave one futile pull at the darkness tying him down.

Amused at his attempt to free himself, Bakura held back a smile and instead busied himself by Joey's ear; his teeth scraped across smooth skin just under the lobe before he bit down hard enough to draw blood. Joey couldn't hold back a sharp intake of air, more startled than pained. Bakura drew back and savoured the taste on his tongue. Ryou banged harder against the wood of his mind room door, throwing all of his weight against it. "You taste like fear," Bakura told Joey.

"How poetic," Joey bit back.

"I certainly think so," Bakura agreed. His head came down again, licking the red beading up from the tiny wound. Joey made a disgusted noise.

{Stop whatever you're doing!} Ryou demanded with a shout, helpless panic creeping into his voice.

Bakura reached inward, sending a feeling of teasing reassurance. {Don't be so concerned, dear host. I can't harm him if I want to remain a secret, after all.}

{No,} Ryou cried back, and Bakura heard him slump against the door, shaking. Joey stared up at his distracted captor, noting the distant look in his eyes. His fingers wormed backward, and his skin slid over darkness with a shiver. He had to move quickly, before Bakura regained his senses. {You just can't leave _traces_.} Ryou muttered bitterly.

{I'm only doing this for you, Landlord.} Bakura whispered back. Ryou clamped his hands over his ears, staring hatefully at the strong wood of his mind room door. Attempting to block out the sound was useless since the voice was echoing in his own head. {I do so hate being separated. You'll forgive me for that selfishness, won't you?} Murmured the voice down the dark hallway, slinking under the door. Ryou pressed his hands tighter against his ears. {You are, after all, the perfect vessel for my soul...}

"I won't let you do what you want anymore, soul stealer," Joey hissed, and Bakura turned his gaze back outward, distractedly.

Joey's hand lanced out, and some object in his hand glittered—

And that was all Bakura knew before the cord of the Millennium Ring was sliced straight through, dropping the powerful Item containing his soul to the ground. Joey's bindings disappeared instantly, and he swiped out his hand again, throwing the Ring across the room where it hit the wall and landed in a corner.

Ryou, startled at his sudden control of his body, collapsed on top of Joey and lay there motionless for a second. Joey was first to break the silence, awkwardly grabbing at his friend's shoulders. "Hey, are you okay?"

The snowy head tilted upward, and Ryou's gaze travelled from the sharp-edged yo-yo in Joey's hand at his shoulder, to the bite mark on his neck, and finally to Joey's worried face. Ryou found himself slightly pink. "Um..."

"He didn't...hurt you or anything, did he?" Joey said uncertainly.

Hastily getting off of Joey, Ryou straightened out his hair in an effort to find something for his hands to do. His head shook once. "No, I'm fine. But you—" Ryou ended his sentence in a cough. Joey blinked, and brought a few fingers up to feel at the redness of his neck.

"I guess I'm just glad his teeth are all he had on him," Joey said unthinkingly. At Ryou's mortified look he added with a huff, "Oh, come on. I doubt I look that injured. It could have been worse. For you, too. Since we're both alright we should be glad, right?"

"Oh," stammered Ryou, "that's not...oh. Yes. I am glad," and then his face broke out into a sunny grin as he delightedly leaned forward and threw his arms around Joey's neck. Joey patted his back awkwardly. "You saved me from him! Thank-you!" Ryou declared with an even brighter grin.

Joey pulled himself and Ryou to their feet, and Ryou stepped back, again embarrassed. Too busy with sliding his yo-yo up the sleeve of his shirt and tying it in place somehow beneath the clothing, Joey missed the discomfort but started up the conversation again on a better note, "Well, I ran all the way back here to make sure you were okay," Joey said seriously, "so you owe me lunch."

For a moment there was some silence between them, before Ryou started and began to laugh, more relaxed than he had been in a long while. "Okay. Okay, it'll just be a while. Although it's a little early for lunch..."

"Yeah," Joey admitted, "but all my energy's gone. And I didn't have much of a breakfast."

With that, Ryou wandered into the kitchen, humming under his breath, moving over to the cupboards to pull out his cooking tools. He managed to restrain himself from singing aloud and saved himself from the embarrassment.

Joey turned his attention back to the problem at the forefront of his mind, and walked across the room and grabbed the Ring up by the cord. Then he found the lock on the nearest window, opened it wide, and threw the object outside as hard as he could manage. It disappeared from sight, glimmering gold.

Behind him, Ryou cleared his throat and Joey turned around. "You know it'll just come back, don't you..." Ryou said quietly.

"Is that why you didn't say anything about him to any of us?" Joey queried in confusion.

Ryou looked a little sorry. His fingers fiddled with the bottom of his shirt. "...It wouldn't have made a difference," he responded quietly.

Bringing one hand up and scratching his mussed blond hair, Joey offered Ryou a confident smirk. "We'll just throw it back out again if the Ring shows up on your doorstep. Every time he comes back, we'll deal with it. We'll fight back and force him away. Doesn't matter how many times we have to do it."

"We?" Ryou said uncertainly.

There was an exasperated groan from Joey. "You don't think I'll let you deal with him on your own, do you? You need my help," he said firmly.

"I just..." Ryou croaked out, suddenly anxious, making Joey frown. Fidgeting on the spot, Ryou scrubbed at his face, almost clawing at something no longer under his skin. "I just don't want you to be a target for him."

Joey paced forward and threw an arm around Ryou's shoulder, making him stop fidgeting with a resolved shake. "Hey. Sometimes, life throws people like the Ring spirit at us," he said slowly, not used to giving advice. Ryou listened in silence. "And what you gotta do is just take what's thrown at us and just..." Joey faltered as he tried to figure out what to say.

"...Make lemons?" Ryou offered.

His friend just frowned. "What? No. Are you still thinking about my lunch? Forget that for a second." Ryou felt a smile twitch at his face. Joey pursed his lips as he found his train of thought again. "Sometimes when people like the Ring spirit come at us, you just gotta take it and..."

Joey looked at Ryou and caught his smile.

"Roll with it."

The End.


End file.
